Ask Lemmy

Definitely the sexual assault. Especially for the stretch I worked for a manager who made it clear he wouldn't protect his staff if the offender tipped.

I started working at a local restaurant/bar when I was in college. I started out as a server and worked my way to bartender. One of the nights that I was running the service by myself (we had really slow Tuesday nights), this couple came in and sat at the bar. They were super cool, ordered a ton of food and drinks, and we just fucked around and had a great time together. I walked to the back to take their dirty plates away, and when I came back like 45 seconds later, they were gone. Bailed on the tab.

The little money I had made that day was taken from me to cover their bill. Plus the owners demanded I pay the rest of it with my future tips - i.e. I wouldn't get any money until it was all paid back. They paid me $2/hr, and they were going to take another $200 of my money. The place didn't get a lot of business, so it would take me like 1.5 weeks to pay that back without making anything myself. It was a huge punch in the gut. I had worked hard for these guys for at least a year. Unheard of at this restaurant cause most people left after like a month.

I cried like a baby in the manager's office when she told me what the owners said, and I quit that night.

It was years ago when I was waiting tables, but I worked at a sushi restaurant and in walks this woman with a large purse. When her food arrives, she produces a big green squeeze bottle from the purse and proceeds to squirt some sort of super pungent green sauce over everything. Like we're talking right on the sushi!

I was actually inwardly a little amused by the whole thing and was speculating what it might be? She looked vaguely south asian? Anyway, I quickly realized the smell was going to bother other customers, so I politely asked if she might move to another table. It's not one I usually gave to customers as it was near the kitchen with servers going back and forth a lot, but it was far enough away from the main dining area to keep the smell localized.

Well, then she blew up. Omg. I eventually had to call the manager who tried to talk to her in calming tones but with little success. And it fell on me again to escort her out. (I'm a pretty big guy, though kind of baby-faced and not very intimidating, but the manager was a small woman and I guess I was her best option?)

As I led her out, she started bitching that we shouldn't use disposable chopsticks. I think she was just venting about anything at this point? I said well, bamboo is still a lot better than plastics. I told her if she wants a fresh pair to take home, she could have it. This seemed to catch her off guard and she accepted the chopsticks. I think somehow this was a "win" in her mind and she left with a smug expression. Never saw her again, thankfully.

This will not rate against actual horror stories that any other server could tell, but it's all I've got so I'll tell it anyway.

My family briefly owned a restaurant years ago in our small rural hometown, I briefly worked there as a bartender when I was down and out. Before it was our restaurant, the building had housed a seedy blue collar bar; video poker lounge, selling drugs out of the kitchen, most of the clientele arrived on foot because they were on suspended licenses for DUIs, etc. We were not a fine dining establishment by any means but definitely more upscale by comparison. Tablecloths, steaks and chops, largest selection of craft beers in the county.

One night while I'm behind the bar a 50ish year old guy comes in with his two early 20s sons. Dad is dressed like upper middle class, kids are preppies. Loafers and polo shirts. The dad is visibly surprised and confused when he sits down at the bar. He explains that he had intended to show his boys a good time at the crappy dive bar he used to haunt when he went to college in the neighboring big city years and years ago, couldn't believe this was the same place. I explain how we're a respectable family establishment now, make small talk about his old college days, reminisce about ol' man Patterson who used to hold up the end of the bar every night back in the day (died of lung cancer), recommend beer pairings for the food they order...basically charming the shit out of him. Can't stop talking about how nice it is, how great it is, how they ought to come back with the rest of the family sometime.

He settles up the tab. "Wow, what a great meal! This has really been great!" I prepare to receive the a hefty tip. Check the receipt book...no tip. I even went so far as to check the floor on the other side of the bar, thinking maybe the cash money had accidentally slipped off. Nada. Got stiffed.

The next night, him and the sons are back, this time with mom and two other couples, a table of nine of them all together. They get the big table in the back room, everyone orders the ribeye, multiple bottles of our best wine, in there for several hours getting grade A service. After closing their waitress comes over to me. "Can you believe those fuckers didn't leave a tip!?"

Yes I can, Haley...yes I can.

I waited on Jimmy Supafly Snuka once. This was in the '90s, and he was way past his performing years, but you wouldn't know it and I think he didn't know it.

He acted like an immensely entitled ass that night. I waited on him because he was harassing the girls and they were done. He, surprisingly, did not invite me back to his hotel room.

I hope it wasn't indicative of the kind of person he was. No, no tip.

Many years ago, making a sandwich, dude says he needs to piss, i apologise say theres no toilets, he says no worries, pulls his dick out and pisses right there.

Two different people offered to suck my dick for pizza. I did not want either one of them to suck my dick.

i once saw Sarah Connor getting ice cream in her waitress' uniforms' pocket !